


And now, this is how I am repaid

by peraspera



Category: Campaign: Skyjacks (Podcast), Illimat (Board Game)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Necromancy, Necrophilia, general grossness, mentions of vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 16:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19704997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peraspera/pseuds/peraspera
Summary: There’s no need for a vote: The Captain does want to engage in sexual congress. He wants this with Dref, in particular.





	And now, this is how I am repaid

Following the closing ceremony of Aur Pióra, the crew of the Uhuru put days between them and the city of Burza Nyth. The Broker, bound by their deal to relieve the crew of their stock of featherweave, tipped them off to the location of a buyer. It would only be a partial stock, but the reward promises to be a hefty one. Thus, it’s back to the skies.  
  
On the bustling decks of the Uhuru, Gable and Travis bicker over the day’s stock of food and supplies. Travis, reclining against the mast, refuses to believe they actually need to keep track of such trivial things like food stores.  
  
“I don’t see how we could possibly run out of potatoes at this point – we spent _hours_ dragging those boxes aboard”  
  
Gable could strangle him for acting so nonchalant. As per usual.   
  
“You never carried anything. The Broker’s employees did all the heavy lifting.”  
  
“Yes, but it was exhausting watching them do it.” Travis groans dramatically, “All those people, sweating and going on and off the ship? It’s very taxing to think about.”  
  
“We still need to keep an accurate account of the food stores aboard the ship. Did you keep track of how many boxes they brought aboard?” Gable questions.  
  
“Of course. It was… well it’s more than enough to last us until the next port!”  
  
“The Broker included a detailed listing of all the gifted supplies.” Dref supplies quietly, his voice lifting to almost a questioning tone. “I have the records stored in the captain’s quarters should we need to-to consult them.”  
  
Gable seems satisfied with Dref’s deft organizational literacy, but they can never pass up the opportunity to needle Travis further. As they continue back and forth, the captain fixes Dref with an intense stare. This marks the fourth time today Dref has caught the captain watching him. More and more often, it seems to be Orimar’s default when he was acting on what Dref would call ‘autopilot’.   
  
It was only worrying Dref because he hadn’t ever ordered Orimar to follow him this closely in public before.  
  
\---   
  
The staring is getting worse. And it isn’t just staring anymore.  
  
The captain’s quarters are currently littered with cast-aside books and papers, half-torn and smudged, forgotten as Dref pours over forbidden texts. Jonnit sits perched on the table across from the doctor, reading his own dry, dry texts on starwatching tactics. He starts fidgeting - never could stay still for too long - so he hopped down with the intent to grab a quick snack from Wasp. Walking to the door, a thud and a rapid fluttering sound follows him from the stack of books Jonnit just stumbled into.  
  
“Oops. My bad.” Jonnit sidesteps another precarious stack of books. “I can fix that.”  
  
Dref doesn’t look up from his textbook. “Hmm? Oh, no-no need. The captain can tidy up, we’ve been working on a few more uh, fine motor skills.” And with a wave of his hand, Dref orders Orimar to put the room to rights.  
  
Except he doesn’t. Not right away. The dead captain lumbers over all the discarded papers, standing directly at Dref’s side, and settles his large hand on the other’s shoulder. The touch makes Dref twitch. Lifeless eyes are boring a hole in Dref’s head as he raises his to meet them.  
  
Jonnit chuckles uncertainly. “Is that a part of cleaning up?” He asks as Dref scrambles out of the captain’s hold.  
  
Dref brushes off an imaginary layer of dirt off of his stained lab coat. With detached anxiety, he feels his hands tremble. It wouldn’t do any good to let Jonnit in on how unnerved the Captain just made him. He avoids his gaze entirely, actually.  
  
Humming nervously, he darts out of the room without another word. Clearing the room, he pulls a hand over his face. Inside, Orimar began tidying just as Dref had ordered him to.  
  
\---  
  
It’s really only a matter of time before the crew started to notice the captain’s new fixation, Dref realizes. Gable is standing serenely before an All Hands On Deck to discuss the impending docking at Ti’Shurt. In the early morning light, the crew is bleary but not quiet. Meetings aboard the Uhuru are rowdy and loud, with kids and deckhands and older members all talking over one another. Eager conversations about what bars to visit, who would be in town for a rendezvous and where they could get a decent meal of meats that weren’t dried and preserved muddle the crisp air with sound.  
  
Dref, Travis and Jonnit stand to one side, with Gable and Orimar standing at the helm in front of the crowd. There are certain matters that need to be discussed before they could pull to port. Gable whistles, immediately grabbing the attention of the crew.  
  
“Listen up, everyone!” Gable addresses the gathered men and women, “We’re in Ti’Shurt on official business, to liquidate some of our featherweave. We can’t know for sure that there won’t be any members of the Redfeather Syndicate around the more populated areas. We were assured by The Broker that it wouldn’t become a problem, but I expect all of you to keep your wits about you.”  
  
“Are you calling us all foolish! Or do you want us to the bring fools with us?” A voice calls from the back after a beat.  
  
“What?” Gable asks, flabbergasted.  
  
“No no no, that’s _twits_ about you. I think they said _wits_ about you.” A low voice from the other side of the group replied.  
  
“I always keep my bits about me, if you know what I mean,” Spit laughs from the front, “And that’s sexual.”  
  
“Wait, does this mean we can’t get drunk?” A French voice shouts from the crowd. “I definitely want to get drunk.”  
  
A murmur of agreement travels through the crew.  
  
Dref steps forward, adjusting his glasses as he speaks, “L-look, what Gable means to get across is that we are a wanted crew. We were under the Broker’s protection in Burza Nyth but that pr-protection won’t last forever. The Syndicate is all rather eager to-to-to take in any one of us. Unless all of you want to be killed or kidnapped by one of the Redfeathers, we’re simply suggesting that you maintain a low-profile. That, or stay on the sh-ship. Tha-that’s all.”  
  
As the crew digests this, Dref’s attention falls on captain. Something glints in his dark eyes. In his hands, he is playing with a deck of cards, just like he had in Wolf’s Tooth the first night he showed his growing independence from the necromancer’s influence.  
  
Dref takes a step back, sparing a look towards Jonnit and Travis beside him. Something about that look bothers Dref. Not wanting to alert the whole crew, he mumbles “Um, guys?” to subtly get one of the other three’s attention. As soon as Dref speaks, Orimar blinks and charges at Dref, narrowly slipping past Gable’s instinctual reaction to pull him back. Dref’s heart leaps to his throat, his eyes going wide, attempting to silently communicate to his co-conspirators that he _isn’t doing this_.  
  
None of the others act fast enough to do anything. They watched in dismay as the captain grabs Dref by the lapels of his coat and drags him away. Dref scrambles against him but even a dead captain easily overpowers him.  
  
The captain deliberately walks him backwards, below deck and into the captain’s own quarters.  
  
Dref struggles to think through his terror. He wants to throw up. Whatever dark force had taken control of the Captain definitely has the power to kill him. Is he going to die here? Fear rushes Dref, twisting in his gut with a familiar nausea.  
  
“C-Captain Orimar. I-I order you to-to uh, stop. L-leave me alone.” Dref stutters, fumbling through a last-ditch attempt to control the zombie in front of him. “P-please.”  
  
Orimar freezes in place, time suspended as he processes. But somewhere the wires get crossed. The captain seems to hear ‘leave _us_ alone,’ for he turns on his heels and deftly locks the door to his quarters. It clicks shut with finality and Dref whimpers like a frightened animal.  
  
He is definitely going to die.  
  
Dref feels – only feels, doesn’t see, he doesn’t want to see the captain kill him – steady hands grasp his grubby collar. He flinches, ready for the final blow. There is a beat where time freezes. The captain pulls him in closer and—  
  
And Orimar kisses Dref.  
  
Dref, depraved and guilty of many deeds except this sort, squeaks, body responding on some buried instinct, too dumbstruck to do anything but let what once was his necrotic subject – for lack of a better term – buss him thoroughly.  
  
Dimly, he recognizes the same powerful emotion he felt alone with Orimar in Burza Nyth, a deep romantic infatuation. This time, though, the fear in him just isn’t there.  
  
After countless breathless moments, Dref’s mind catches up with his yielding mouth and he breaks free of their locked lips. This is new. _Completely_ novel. The captain pins Dref with an intensity in his eyes that he simply can’t explain, and it sends a shiver up his spine.  
  
Any other man would probably take this reprieve to run as fast and as far as he could. But that’s not Dref.  
  
He knows, with perfect clarity, that this thrills him. Dref unequivocally must explore Orimar’s unexplained passion. He never let common decency come between him and forbidden knowledge before. Never. Why should he stop now? Now, when the physical exploration feels so… intoxicating.  
  
“You…” Dref heaves a breath, “are a marvel to me.”  
  
He needs to know the unknowable. Experience the unexperienced. And really, it was easier to attribute his racing pulse to the gratification of discovery than admit that the act itself might excite him the most.  
  
Dref, of course, dives in headfirst.  
  
His thoughts race as they kiss. Did he get the texture of his lips correct? The firmness? Could Dref do something to make the captain’s kisses even better? Wetter? His tongue probes Orimar’s mouth, ever curious, and feels the stitches he used to hold his jaw in place. Electricity dances in his fingers where they are gripping the captain’s coat.  
  
The captain pushes Dref against the wall. Dref… well, he doesn’t do much thinking after that.  
  
Beside them, the door rattles on its hinges, the rumbling breaking Dref out of his stupor. The captain draws away from him and Dref keens in frustration, his hips inexplicably following.  
  
He hears Gable shout something unintelligible from the other side.  
  
Oh. Right. They others likely still think that Vale has turned on Dref.  
  
_They wouldn’t be entirely wrong in that assumption,_ Dref thinks deliriously.  
  
Tied between arousal and rationality, Dref debates ignoring them. It’s Jonnit’s panicked tone that convinces him. Narrowly. Dref motions for the captain to open the door.  
  
Seeing Jonnit and Gable, Dref considers a second too late how he must look: glasses askew, lips surely red and swollen, collar stretched beyond hope of repair. To make matters worse, a high flush settles on his cheeks. He must look thoroughly ravished.  
  
Not subtly, he adjusts his glasses, fumbling his way through a lie, “Oh um. Hello, Gable. Jonnit. D-don’t worry, I have everything uh under control. Orimar was um- there was a-a bit of a glitch! I had to get him away from the crew before things… got a-a-away from me in front of them.” Dref supplied lamely.  
  
Gable, despite cutting an intimidating figure, is completely oblivious.  
  
“And you fixed it? The glitch?” They ask, unphased, “Did he hurt you?”  
  
Dref, unable to help himself, looks to the captain and squeaks out a small, “no!” Gable looks visibly relieved.  
  
“Oh good. We were really scared that the captain was being haunted by an evil spirit trying to kill you.” Jonnit hastily explains. If he notices Dref correcting his collar, he doesn’t mention it.  
  
“No. No uh, no evil spirit here that I know of.”  
  
Travis slips in the door behind Jonnit, graceful in a way that Dref could never hope to be. His sharp grey eyes scan him. Dref feels very exposed under his gaze.  
  
Dref clears his throat. “Yes. Well. If that’s all, then the captain and I will—"  
  
“Dref, you sly dog.” Travis interrupts and pins Dref with a wolfish grin.  
  
“I’m sorry?”  
  
Travis ignores the twin looks of confusion from both Jonnit and Gable and takes another step towards Dref.  
  
“You heard me.”  
  
“I h-have no idea what you mean.” Dref mumbles, cursing his stutter now more than ever.  
  
“Really? It looks like there’s something off about you. But I can’t quite put my finger on it.” Travis drawls and deliberately taps his fingers to his mouth, looking from Dref to Orimar and back and winking. Dref’s stomach drops. “It’s like it’s on the tip of my tongue,” he teases, “or maybe yours?”  
  
Dref’s blush flares up as violently red as before, dropping his gaze to the floor and NOT looking at Travis.  
  
Travis, to his credit, knows exactly the value of discretion. He knows that Dref knows he knows and that’s enough on the subject for now. “Hm. I must be mistaken. Well, you all heard the man; everything is clearly fine. Besides, if the captain wanted to kill Dref, he’d be a big pile of bones already.”  
  
Dref gags and had never felt so grateful to his weak stomach.  
  
\---  
  
By afternoon the following day, Dref finds himself sitting on top of a table in the medical bay making out with the captain. Dref is tentatively exploring Orimar’s mouth with his tongue. The other’s tongue doesn’t move in exactly a natural way, but it isn’t as if Dref is overflowing with experience in this area.  
  
He hadn’t thought about improving Vale’s dexterity with his tongue. Perhaps it could come in handy for future negotiations. As his ability stands now, Dref is squirming under the attention, heart beating fast and pounding in his chest; any more might actually kill him.  
  
Fascinating.  
  
When they separate, a line of spit briefly spans between them. That’s an ingenuity on Dref’s part this morning. He fed the captain water to see if it would improve the experience. As chance would have it, dry kisses are _far_ inferior. Dref resists dedicating a new notebook to this particular study. Yet.  
  
A sharp rap at the door disrupts Dref’s thoughts. It was unmistakably not the same sound as the ship’s usual groaning and whistling through the air. Shit.  
  
Relocating to the medical bay should have discouraged any interruptions. Dref’s position as the ship’s physician is respected but his general airs grant him privacy. No one on the ship in their right mind comes here willingly, it’s too ‘creepy’.  
  
Well, no one except…  
  
The door swings open and Travis saunters in. Dref squeaks and shoves the captain away.  
  
“Dref!” Travis exclaims, looking absolutely gleeful to catch Dref and Orimar in the act. “What a fantastic coincidence, you’re just the man I wanted to see.”  
  
“It’s… not really a-a coincidence, this office is- is emergency use only, off-limits to anyone outside of- of conspiracy—”  
  
“Semantics, semantics!” Travis interrupts, waving off the very logical thought posed by Dref. “It’s clearly destined by fate itself that I find you here…” Travis glances at the captain. “Alone.”  
  
Dref blushes to the apples of his cheeks and wrings his hands in his coat, irritation twinging his tone. “No uh, not really. H-how can I um, h-help you?”  
  
“Oh I’m not in need of any help you can give me.” Travis laughs and begins to pace the floor of the sick bay languidly. Like one of the predators inside him stalking a paralyzed prey. “I’m much more interested in our dear captain here. As I recall it, we agreed _not_ to allow the dead captain to buss anyone. We had a vote. No sex, no zombie captain babies running around, and definitely no bussing.”  
  
Dref blinked and felt his blush extend to his ears. “Well, ah, uhm, t-technically only Gable voted n-no to that uh- particular mode of engagement regarding the captain. We never—We never actually _voted_ \--”  
  
Travis sneers and cuts Dref off before he can finish. “Oh please. You just wanted Orimar all to yourself, is that it?”  
  
“That’s not— it’s not—” Dref splutters and sends a look to the captain and lowers his voice. “Travis, I’m not ordering him to- to do, uh…”  
  
He trails off and Travis finishes the sentence for him. “To do you?”  
  
This is clearly one implication too many and Dref, frustrated, retreats, stalking back behind his desk. It is covered in papers full of frantic scribbles and vials of things Travis doesn’t recognize. He huffs and drops into the chair, barely groaning beneath his gaunt frame. “Wh-wh-what does it matter? W-we agreed to allow me full authority to do what I do. This is, this is—”  
  
“It’s gross.” Travis says, sounding like a petulant child.  
  
“Gross? Th-that’s coming from the man who- who who turns to GOOP every night. _That’s_ gross. This is… this is practically research.” Dref says. His eyes gleam with an innate curiosity he cannot deny.  
  
“Very handy research.” Travis snorts.  
  
Dref ignores the jab and goes quiet and still, carefully considering his next words. “Travis. There is something else that is influencing the captain beyond just me. Whatever is also controlling the captain… it _wants_.”  
  
A silence descends between the two of them. Only the faint sounds of the fires powering the woody hull of the Uhuru surrounding them fill the air.  
  
Travis is serious when he responds. “What does it want?”  
  
They both look to the reanimated corpse of Orimar Vale, who winks at Dref. “Me. Apparently.” Dref pauses and can still feel his blush lightly dusting his pale face. “And I don’t know what else it wants but I would very much like to find, hm, f-find out.”


End file.
